


Laundry Love

by CinnamonK



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A lot of friendship feels too, Ages not canonical, Alternate Universe - Human, Derek is smitten, Fluff, M/M, Mechanic Derek, Romance, So much FREINDSHIP, Stiles is a Doctor, Stupid Boys, and human, hale family is alive, he just doesn't know yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 00:30:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinnamonK/pseuds/CinnamonK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The laundry mat on fourth may be the only socialization Stiles gets outside of the hospital recently, not that he's complaining. Even if a few obnoxiously loud frat boys stop in the rest of the 'Scrub A Dub'  customers seems pretty cool, he may have even made some "Best Friends Foreveeeer". He has maybe three people that can actually stand him but that list seems to unexpectedly grow larger from just sitting in the dinky shop.</p><p>& for some odd reason its like Stiles somehow conjured up a magical maid-like genie when he falls asleep and begins to shiver or has to leave his clothes still running and bolt. He comes back and even his socks are matched up & paired. He's not sure which creepier, a stranger washing his clothes  or waking up with a blanket wrapped around him that the possible genie with the hobby of folding Stiles' clothes put on him.</p><p>Either way he doesn't  spend that much time thinking about it, he's kind of thankful really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bruised My Shoulder, Hurt My Pride

It was nothing really, a small albeit confusing public scene of early _early_ morning crazies. Just any other junkie Derek thought.  

The guy snored strangely, like he was dying & I guess if my face, nose prominently, was mushed against the faux wood table like that Derek's snores would probably sound just the same. He didn’t look particularly homeless, but his hair looked like he’d been electrified and NOT in the rare sexy way-in fact Derek never understood that style much. If there were any ladies doing their laundry Derek might have even considered bringing his whites down here just to keep an eye out for them, because you never know what the junkies are on. Some drugs cause violence. It could all be a rouse too, the sleeping.

Derek shook the those paranoid thoughts out of his head with an eye roll, he really needed to stop listening to Uncle Pete.

He was all done folding his jeans and shirts and was heading towards the door when a song triggered the possibly homeless guy to wake up from his slumber. A few college students turned away from their laundry to give the before quiet peer a glare seeing as they had been playing their own music for a while now.

The way the guy flinched up was horrifying to watch, knees banging against the table he’d been resting on, neck snapping back in shock. He immediately picked up his phone without saying word to the caller in greeting, except a choking whine after what Derek assumes was bad news.

“I’m coming.” He shouted banging his long limbs up from the table bench once again, in a hurry to get out of the contraption. Once free he was running for the doors.

Barreling Derek’s way, as if he didn’t see the big guy holding a basket in front of the door. He was able to dodge the crazy for the most part but their shoulders clashed painfully, junkie still running without a look or words or apology towards Derek

He stood there rolling his shoulder back and watching the lanky man jog down the side walk, when one of the slightly sober college students decided to give Derek a piece of their wisdom, “Duuude, that’s why you need a bag, then your whitey-tighties don’t spill over when people jump yuh.”

Derek’s “ _tightey-whities”_ did not in fact spill over, but a pair of jeans did flop to the floor. Giving the puke smelling boy his best scowl Derek said some rainbow fluffy choice words, then setting his basket of clean clothes Derek bends down to retrieve his now dirty jeans.

Only he finds that he wasn’t the only person who dropped something in the collision. A standard lanyard is holding a work I.D. laying on the floor right be his feet. It clicks and Derek feels a bit guilty, ‘cause he has seen Laura come back looking that bad. Derek was actually considering the guy as a threat to other people around the area. He's glad the string of curse words he wanted to spit out when the guy all but bruised his whole right side were left on the back of him tongue. Jobs in the industry make you look a bit crazy. He feels slightly sick to his stomach because he sees a washer going right behind the now vacated table. The one Dr.Stilinski had left his clothing behind, woke up after he probably just got off shift, and left his belongings - sprinting off into the lightless morning to save some little kid.

Derek looked back at the Beacon Hills Hospital badge covered in happy stickers hap-hazardly put on with no design barely legible to read through the mass of them; Dr.Stilinski, Pediatric Surgeon. You can only see half his face because of a rogue glittery unicorn plastered over it but even from that sliver you can tell that the guy is beautiful. Smile so wide it looks like it hurts. Stilinski tries to save children, obviously works way to hard, and also happens to be attractive- with a slightly questionably taste in music.

Its going be a long day.

 

 

♪ ** _Doctor doctor, Give me the news. I’ve got a bad case of lovin’ you._** ♫


	2. Banged My Knees, Scraped My Heart

Stiles didn’t care for hospital gossip.

Okay well, that’s not quite true, Stiles _loved_ hospital gossip-It was cringy, overdramatic and just the best kind of stories. Having a Sheriff as a father gave him the expert skills to weed out the truths from just pure bored doctrine make-believe. It was good fun, teasing, laughing and cooing in shock at the other hospital affiliates. It was a release for almost everyone there. First and second-year residency stories were by far the best, as they were not accustomed to practically living at the hospital they didn’t have the compartmental skills or secretive hiding spots to practice their career and love life in the hospital. It came with time, and a lot of exploring.

Stiles didn’t like the gossip about him. Sure if it was who he hooked up with on call this week he'd have been uncomfortable but not furious as he was with the implications of this telltale(Stiles didn’t hook up with anyone in the on call beds, Stiles prefers actually sleeping when given the damn chance).

As much as he despised the implications it is not as if they were pulled out of someone's ass, they did have some merit… it was a very unusual and by most accounts, an unprofessional relationship. Doctor Deaton, years prior had actually sat him down and talked to him about nightingale syndrome however Scott had been thirteen at the time and nothing was too much amiss. Somehow Deaton always knew what laid ahead.

Stiles started treating Scott in his very first year of his residency, five years ago. He was ten, suffering from what at first progressed as just bad asthma. They jad just clicked, and the only thing the rumors had right is Scott did have his heart, just not in the sickening pedophilic way that was being talked about. Stiles has seen the little dude pee himself a number of times and met him when he was a kid, nothing romantic about it.Scott was a goof, such a loving goofball, and _young_. He wasn’t so much as the class clown as Stiles use to be but more of just laughable in his pure honest reactions to everything around him. There was nothing hiding in his brain because of how much showed on his face 24/7. Stiles loved him, from the first year. Stiles had unfortunately said, where it wasn’t a problem then-Scott at only age ten, that he'd have loved to have met someone like Scott when he was ten, he was sure they would have been the best of friends. Especially then did Stiles need a good friend, however, he was just happy he met Scott at all.

Stiles curses his rambling and honest to god no self-preservation.

Scott refused to have anyone operate on him but Stiles. Which over the years was fine until now, sure people around the hospital talked about it but it was mostly Jackson stomping arounf telling Stiles not to let it go to his head.

Scott despite his active troubles was growing up quite a bit. At fifteen he sprouted, still just a bit shorter than Stiles but with broader shoulders. Stiles couldn’t help but to be delighted, good growth spurts didn’t necessarily mean Scott would live a long completely well life but it did spring hope in his doctor that maybe things were looking up.  
Stiles specialized in younger patients, toddlers in fact, so the rumor mill took a heated turn when Scott came back after a hiatus of eight months, this time fifteen and a lot older looking than before, not letting any doctor talk to him but Dr.Stilinski.

He had a rather bad evening with one of his epilepsy patients, it was rough and tearing him apart. This was Stiles problem, always too close to those he treated. He had a washer & dryer at home, but he didn’t want to go home ro be alone, nor did he want to be around his friends. All his friends were doctors, doctors were horrible at comforting, especially to other doctors. They could say only one of two things A) Stiles desperately needed to distant himself from his patients or B) Pat on the back because they’ve been there and there isn't anything you can do about it. Your patients live or die, sometimes you can't do a thing but watch them suffer.  
So with no friends, and heavy weight on his heart and eyelids Stiles took about a months worth of personal scrubs and civilian clothes to a laundry mat nearby the hospital instead of going home, if he got into bed he'd never clean his clothes and he was completely out of his colorful renditions of cartoon animals and bright multicolored scrubs. Most adults winced in secondhand embarrassment or just from the hurtful array of bright colors when they say him in them. Stiles didn’t mind, though, he is used to being somewhat humiliating for people and he liked them but the kids reacted more positive to it than the bleak blue-gray scrubs of the Beacon Hills Hospital regulation scrubs and that’s what really mattered, that and Stiles is always game to talk about superheroes with anyone no matter their age.

Stiles took up space in a table near the corner of the 'Scrub a Dub' laundry mat, after stuffing his clothes in several washers, not properly sorting them, he had but a few minutes to muse over the other customers. A few annoying college students whistled, giggling along with each other and playing music was most of the early morning show, it left him rueful that he didn’t go home as they were getting exceedingly louder by the minute. He was just about to say something, not sure what, but he's sure his overstressed and under rested brain could come up with something colorful and senseless but before he could he realized he wasn’t the only patron who was bothered by them. A man in what looked to be the softest sweatpants and hoodie in the entire world gave them the utmost unamused look from across the room. Even in his morning jammies, the man was scary, in all the right ways Stiles thought. He must have a strong jaw under the beard he was sporting, to go along with his sharp cheekbones and green glaring eyes. Stiles wasn’t quite sure why the teenagers quieted down instantly to the older man's look of disgust but they did and Stiles was ever so relieved. It's not that the man wasn’t big, but all Stiles could think of is how much he wanted to be in those pants, those very soft looking cotton sweats.

Stiles suddenly laughed at himself, manically probably judging by the way cotton pants shot him a look.  
What has his life become, staring at probably the most attractive specimen he has seen in ages and the spicest thought he had other than the guys comfy looking clothes is that it might be nice to be held by him in said comfy linens.

Stiles last fully awake thought was a vow to have more sex before his thoughts got any purer, he was a man damn it.


	3. Wasted My Morning, Hoped To Die

Derek wasn’t quite sure what possessed him. He was guilty sure, but this was another man's personal belongings, it felt right in the moment but now he felt queasy. He was going to call up his sister, and actually, he wasn’t sure what he was going to say to Laura… He just knew she had to know something of the Dr.Stilinski since they worked at the same hospital. Now he only thought of the horrible things Laura would coo at him if he actually told her.

_Oh Der-bear, look at you hiding all that domestic behind those glowering growls!_

Derek shook his head vigorously, there was no way he was letting her know, he would never hear the end of it.  
He was going to deliver them to the hospital but the idea lights his cheeks pink, he really didn’t think things thru. The chances of him getting thru the hospital doors without Laura knowing from the scarily accurate and fast dialing between nurses stations was almost impossible. Even if he was able to, _he wouldn’t the nurses are a force to be reckoned with_ , that'd leave him searching for a doctor he has never met in a fairly big hospital to deliver at least three basket loads of laundry, that were said man's, that again, Derek has never even spoken a god damn word to.  
He groaned sinking into the table Dr.Stilinski had taken up hours ago. Burying his head in his hands he half mused the idea to roll the clothes in some more dirt and stick them back in the washer like nothing happened.

Why does he always find himself in these embarrassing situations?

While he was almost 90% sure nobody would come around to steal baskets of clothes that featured things like yellow scrubs with cartoon raccoons chasing each other he still didn’t quite feel comfortable leaving them in the 'Scrub A Dub' laundry mat.

His personal crisis was causing some looks cast his way, much to his delight Derek recognized a pair of those eyes.  
His grin must be feral by the look of horror Ennis gave him from across the laundry mat.  
The boy was obviously thinking about bolting as he shyly angled himself away from Derek and more towards the door.

"Ennis!" Derek called out before the boy could get a chance, he beckoned him forth hoping he was right of which twin it was, either way, the young man cowered forward.

"Yes, Mister Hale?"

"You're not coming into the shop today are you?" Derek asked, brain already planning his way out of his embarrassment. Derek knew Ennis wasn’t coming into work today, Derek made the schedules, he also knew Ennis didn’t have any schooling today either and really it was his job to occupy the boy out of his free time lest he got himself in any more trouble. Or so Derek told himself so he does not fall prey to another guilt trip this morning.

"No sir," Ennis said looking more distraught by the minute.

"Have you anything to do today?" Again Derek knew the answer to this but he grinned away asking anyhow.

"No sir, I can work if you'd like."

"I have a different kind of job for you today Ennis," Derek must look crazed because Ennis took a step back.

Derek went through explaining what he needed to be done, stay in the laundry mat, wait for this man to come back to pick up his things. Derek thrusted the glittery ID badge in Ennis' face to get a good look at the side of Dr.Stilinski's unicorn grin so he knew who he was looking for. Don’t engage with the doctor and stay across the laundry mat, only leave when he's picked up his things Derek barked knowing his cheeks were turning pink.  
Ennis looked incredibly confused but nodded to every word Derek said.

Derek got up and rummaged thru his huge sweat pant pockets for his wallet before pausing with an idea, "Do you have a paper and pen perhaps?" Derek asked Ennis and was pleasantly surprised when the boy scurried over to where he was originally sitting bringing back a binder and a pencil.

Derek's heart unexpectedly swelled at the sight of the algebra neatly sprawled on the first couple pages of the binder. It occurred to him that it was barely nine AM and Ennis was out alone.

"Why are you out so early, or did you never go home?" He asked accusingly.

Ennis' cheeks were already flushed with mild embarrassment from having to hand over his binder, as if studying was still something he was embarrassed to admit he did, they grew more tinted with what was probably anger at Derek's tone and he jutted his jaw out, " I needed to get out of the house." He started off strong and angry but averted his eyes as soon as Derek gave him a knowing look, " I don’t need your pity," he added.

"If not my pity at least let me be marginally proud," Derek said softer this time handing the binder over to Ennis after ripping out a blank piece of paper and jotting some things down. He was proud, Ennis has taken long strides from his raging outbursts and was studying on his own volition. Derek pulled a few bills from his wallet and gave it to the boy with his binder and spoke before Ennis could open his mouth fully to protest. "You're doing me a personal favor, and taking time out of your free day, it is not pity money, I don’t pity, its thank you money."

Without anymore horrendous social adventures Derek turned his heel and marched out of the laundry mat breathing a sigh of relief as soon as the door shut behind him.

He really doesn’t know what has gotten into him these days. He really shouldn’t leave the house.


	4. Heavy Heart, Floating Smile

Stiles swiped what had to be the third cup of jello out of Scott's hand, ignoring the loud pouty protest he got for his troubles.

"You're barely getting the spoon in your mouth, Scott," Stiles was so worn out, watching Scott fighting to stay awake was making him even more tired, "stop fighting your anesthetics, you'll feel better after you sleep."

Scott seemed to mull this over but whispered a protest about Stiles being here.

"Scotty, I haven't slept in 30 hours except for a little personal time on a frankly gross table downtown. We both need sleep and I'd feel a lot better knowing you were able to sleep soundly before I go back home."

Scott looked as guiltily at his IV but Stiles just clapped him on his shoulder lowering his bed down, "I'll be back, I'm not the only friendly person on this floor I promise okay, just get some sleep for me, Scott."

"I know that, but you're my favorite," Scott said sheepishly while pulling his covers up. "I'll sleep if you promise to go home and sleep too."

"Nothing sounds better," Stiles said assuring but waited until the boy was asleep, checking over his and Stiles' other patients chart numbers once more before leaving.

He was halfway to his house before his brain caught up with his actions, he debated leaving his clothes in the laundry mat while he slept from what would probably be as soon as he hit his bed until the next evening. A good solid twelve hours of sleep sounded so good, Stiles didn’t even care that he was hungry, he was so exhausted.  
They were probably already sour anyhow… Stiles huffed a sigh and turned his jeep around for a ten-minute drive back to Scrub a Dub. He didn’t have any clean scrubs. He'll toss them in the wash at home and dry them when he is finally awake.

When he arrived it was busier with moms and other bits of family dynamics. Stiles half wondered if someone threw his clothes out since he was taking up so many washers. He twisted in and out of stacked baskets and the rolling hanging carts to get to the corner of the shop. The table he previously snoozed on was full of his clothes.  
Stiles blanched at the sight, someone didn’t throw his clothes out of the washer, someone folded his clothes!  
There was all his clothes, organized by three baskets: scrubs, jeans, tee shirts. Only one of the baskets was his, once white now graying with use and probably germs and dirt his basket stood out against the two other sleek black new looking baskets that held his other clothes. Stiles shuffled thru each basket, everything was washed and folded neatly. The top pair of scrubs in one of sleek black mystery basket had his ID badge draped over it with a neatly folded note.

The notebook paper had only one simple sentence on it, "Sorry for the intrusion."

Stiles hiccupped laughed and clutched the paper to his chest spinning around to look at the other customers around him, accosting the mothers nearby if they knew who did this. Nobody said anything helpful just warily stayed away from him but Stiles didn’t care, he wanted to cry, he wanted to cry and hug and cook for the sweet loving mother who undoubtedly found his badge with his clothes and took it upon herself to help him out. It was the best thing that happened to him this month by far.

He was so thankful, he wanted to do more than just return the baskets, he had to find out who did this for him.  
The ladies he had tried to talk to looked at him strangely as he gleefully took the baskets to his car with a few trips, he's sure he looked horrible and was cheerful with tears in his eyes, he doesn’t blame them one bit. The previous loud college students were gone but a blonde teenager across the room was giving him the stare down, nothing could ruin this moment, though, so he just smiled and waved before retrieving his last basket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my other works!  
> If you need a smile check out Princess Stiles Complete with Batteries
> 
> Thank you <3


	5. Chapter 5

Derek was in love, since the first moment he knew it was a lifelong commitment. Nothing else compared to it, and he was so glad he had found his calling as some would say. Loving your career was the best thing and Derek was in love with his workshop. 

Derek was in love, and as horrible as it is to his family, its only been serious with his work.

Laura was the book smart out of the three Hale siblings, Derek was absolutely horrible. He was endlessly teased for looking murderous at every turn in high school.

Schooling was hard on him, where Laura excelled in popularity and test taking, Derek did not. In fact almost solely due to his sisters' meddling Derek was often in the counselor's office throughout high school trying to overcome his social ineptitude.

He had gotten through a full semester of accounting, nineteen, barely passing his way through college when he first started to work at an auto shop, it was never the same since. He went on and worked at several different companies, His favorite was building home appliances, but massive worldwide companies and the huge factory was just not his thing. Too many people, too many rules. 

He wasn't in love with the idea of working on the same thing for the rest of his life, strung out on the idea of just being a car mechanic. Cars _were not_ the most interesting things a mechanic could get their hands on even though that's about all the general public thinks of when someone says they're a mechanic. 

Cora says he should just refer to himself as a repair man but Derek worked really hard for his degrees and _despises_ the idea. 

His sisters are probably a fair reason as to why Derek likes working with his hands, in his shop, with protective gear on that hinders hearing and therefore social interaction. Building is easy, its fun. Derek loved it thru and thru and nobody bothered him, at first.

Derek's business was almost a complete flop without his familes' meddling, again Derek was an oddball, shops tend to have a specific goal where as Derek's was just a repair shop.  
  
If it is broke, he'll fix it. He understood but also didn't understand why this was confusing and deterred people. Anything mechanical, electrical, anything of the sort Derek would fix it for an honest price. Anything from a toaster to a car.   
  
He even worked on Mrs.Feildings furniture from time to time, not that he wanted that kind of work, nor took any schooling for it but he felt bad for the widow and simply didn't know how to tell her no.  
  
It was a one-man show for a while until his mother hatched an outreach program in his name. To this day Derek has no idea why the juvenal system or parents trust to leave their teenagers in Derek's care. The whole place was full of power tools and every imaginable home improvement gone wrong scenario, but they must be more worried about these boys turning to a life of crime then missing a few fingers.  
  
Where it was his solitude now its a storm of teenagers and Erica, his business partner's wife, chasing after teenagers with a rolled up newspaper and Boyd, his best friend and business partner almost always under some car making a whole lot of noise.  
  
Derek was still in love, but it had gotten a lot more confusing.  
   
  


**Author's Note:**

> The very short teasing introduction~forgive me my loves.
> 
> P.S. Robert Palmer's 1979 "Bad Case of Loving You (Doctor, Doctor)."♫


End file.
